


What's in a Name?

by AlexiusSawall



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 09:28:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15070223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexiusSawall/pseuds/AlexiusSawall
Summary: Luke asks Wedge to tell him about the Rogues in the wake of the first Death Star attack, and ponders a name for his new squadron.





	What's in a Name?

**Author's Note:**

> When Rogue One: A Star Wars Story was announced, there was a certain brand of fake-nerd-boy that was really incensed. "I mean, really another woman?! OH MY GOD." "And the name? Clearly they have no idea – we first see Rogue Squadron in The Empire Strikes Back… these guys are some kind of impostor!" 
> 
> Well, fuck those guys. To my mind, there's a really interesting story to be found around the nomenclature. It’s not a long one, either, but I kinda like it.

Wedge could tell – the port-side, second-deck, aft CO2 scrubber was going to need replacing soon. On a Mon Cal ship, you’d never have issues like that; those guys were the second best species that he knew of for keeping ship atmospheres fresh. But on an ex-Imperial frigate, without proper supplies for maintenance…

 _Boy_ , he thought. _I cannot wait for the Mon Cal to get their big cruisers online_.

Wedge Antilles had spent nearly his whole life in space. His parents had run a refueling depot in the Corellian system, and after a brief sojourn in the Imperial Academy, he’d joined the fledgling alliance as a pilot – and soon enough he’d been assigned to their new X-Wing squadrons. And anyway – time on the ground barely counted. What mattered – what really mattered – happened in space.

The portside second-deck transverse was pretty short, though, so before he got really lost in his wool-gathering, he’d found the main pilot’s mess, where Commander Skywalker had asked to meet him. The amusingly young – he was a whole  _two_   _years_  younger! – new commanding officer of Red Squadron was sitting over a mug of something that looked like blue milk, and when he saw Wedge, the one-time farmboy's smile lit up like twin-suns.

The kid really was something, Wedge had to admit.

“Wedge!” Skywalker said, and he stood, almost spilling his weird drink; but he caught it in a deft swoop, and in the same motion drew Wedge into a giant bear hug. “Hey, thanks for coming, I really appreciate it.”

“Well, Commander,” Wedge said, struggling free, “when my new CO summons me to a meeting…”

“Comm… Oh.” Skywalker looked down at his lapel and the new insignia there on his duty jacket. Neither of them was on-call, so they were in mess-dress, rather than flight-suits. Luke shrugged and sat back down. “Yeah.”

“Hey,” Luke said. “ I hope this isn’t going to be an issue? I mean, you have seniority...”

Wedge laughed, “Maker, no!” He said, laughing. “I’d be a terrible squadron commander – _that_ is all yours. And you did… you know… blow up the Death Star.”

They looked at each other. Grins formed, then almost giggles – they were young, and had taken on the Empire itself, and won. But before the laughter and bravado came, they remembered the sacrifices made on that mad mission above Yavin 4. Out of the entire squadron, only they had come back after taking on the Empire’s massive battle station. So their smiles failed, and they looked at each other, suddenly somber beyond their years.

After a moment of silence, Skywalker spoke, “Look – after what we went through, my name’s Luke. Keep the rank for the rest of the squadron, but between you and me? My name’s Luke.”

“Pleased to meet you, Luke,” Wedge said.

“It’s my pleasure, truly,” Luke said, before leaning back in his chair. “But questions of rank and friendship weren’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Wedge felt a strange sensation, in his throat and chest. He’d lost *all* his friends flying against the Death Star, and at Scarrif before that. But all of a sudden he felt less… alone. _How_ , he wondered, _did a moisture farmer from Tatooine learn to do that?_

“Okay, Comm… Okay, Luke,” Wedge said, smiling; it felt like his first smile in a long time. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“What were they like?”

“Who?”

“The Rogues. They were… before my time.”

Now it was Wedge’s turn to sit back. Luke had so disarmed him that Wedge forgot he’d only flown one combat mission – the Death Star escape on that YT-1300 death trap notwithstanding. But why…

“They were… Look, I barely knew any of them, to be honest. Andor was Intelligence, and we didn’t cross paths much, but I’d flown cover for a couple of his missions. He was sharp.”

“The others?”

“Well, I never met Erso. Or the rest of the people who got off Jedda. They were meant to be Force believers, though, for what that’s worth.” Luke snorted and smiled mysteriously, but waved Wedge on. “But I knew some of the SpecForce guys that went in with them, and I knew General Merrick – Blue Squadron went in hard to support the Rogues. He believed in them,” Wedge said, spreading his hands. “So I guess that’s enough for me. They were good people, and neither of us would be here without what they achieved.”

Luke made a face, now sitting forward. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Wedge took a sip from a cup of caf, realising too late that it was not his, and had likely been sitting there since the Old Republic. He swallowed, and squeaked “Why?”

Luke smiled. “Because when they gave me this command, the Alliance told me I could name the squadron whatever I wanted; I think the guys at the top are expecting something nice and… bold. I don’t know – Deathkiller Squadron or something.”

“That’s a dumb name.”

“I know, right?”

“Stupid. It sounds like a damn TIE Fighter outfit.”

“Yes!”

“So what have you got in mind?” Wedge asked.

“Rogue Squadron.”

Wedge but his lip, and looked aside and to the viewport. Out there was a convoy of ships, all on their way to a new base, on some snow globe planet… Hot? Htoh? Whatever, it was a new base, and it meant the Rebellion wasn’t dead. For Wedge, that was a win.

“I like it.”

“Me too.”

“And I’ll tell you who _won’t_ like it…”

“Who?” Luke’s brows knit together, and he leaned even more forward. Wedge smiled.

“The Empire. The Rogues gave them a beating the last time they saw ’em – when those bastards see  _us_  coming…”

Luke laughed. “They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

Wedge smiled. He was a Rogue now, and it felt good.


End file.
